


A Grounded Robin

by red_jaebyrd



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batbrothers (DCU) Bonding, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Fluff, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne Has a Heart, Gen, POV Tim Drake, Protective Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, Worried Batfamily (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24208201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_jaebyrd/pseuds/red_jaebyrd
Summary: Tim didn’t like that his sleep, meals and even his coffee consumption were now tightly regimented. However, if he was going to be allowed back on patrol, he had to follow the rules. Right now those rules were going to bed at a reasonable hour, eating real food at regular intervals, getting proper exercise and allowing downtime to decompress. This was going to be a long two weeks.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 10
Kudos: 438





	A Grounded Robin

Tim loved detective work. He loved the puzzle it provided and the thought processes behind every clue that eventually leads to a solved case. However, finding clues to solve crimes takes time, effort and attention. Most people can separate themselves from their work. They know when not to get too obsessed with a certain detail or lead. While those other people are determined to get to the end result, their means are typically conservative and not endangering to their health. Tim Drake isn’t most people. His dedication to his job as Red Robin knew no bounds and his work bordered on obsession. Tim would tell you that it’s an over compensation with no shame or restraint in his voice.

It amazed him that even years after her death, his mother’s high expectations of him still rattled his psyche. Tim could always hear her voice with every decision he made. _‘There’s no room for failure in a world that only sees perfection. Remember that, Timothy._ He was always striving for perfection, because Janet would expect nothing less of him. But she was dead, so why was he still living by her standards?

Bruce never placed those expectations on Tim, at least not explicitly. Tim figured Bruce likely learned from Jason that placing that type of pressure on young shoulders never boded well for anyone. He did require competence and encouraged the practice to prefect skills. He expected each one of them to do their best, nothing more. Still, it was a hard mentality for Tim to break away from when in the past “his best” wasn’t ever good enough.

Tim poured all he had into investigation, surveillance, research, and completing reports. An outsider would think he did all this to impress Bruce, and maybe in part, but mostly it was because no one ever told him when he needed to stop. His work ethic was based primarily on showcasing his competency at getting the job done by any means necessary, usually at the expense of his health.

As Robin he had considered himself to be a useful tool at getting any task done. After all, that is all he had been used for when Janet and Jack were alive, a tool, a trophy, a face. Tim’s appearance at galas had simply been to show the investors the future of Drake Industries. His intelligence had been a bonus and credit to his parents…at least that is how they saw it. It was beyond anything his parents could dream of for their child. While his brain had been nurtured and flourished under the best schools and tutors money could buy, the boy’s spirit had been left behind. Basic needs had been met. He had a roof over his head, clothes on his back, food in his stomach, but no one really took the time to take care of Timothy Jackson Drake.

Alfred had been quick to notice this anomaly about Tim once he had moved into the Manor and informed Bruce at once with his concerns. Bruce had been unsure how to approach Tim about taking care of himself. He knew that Tim was a hard worker, and he admired his dedication to his work. For years Bruce had excused the long hours Tim put in as just part of who Tim was as a detective. Bruce didn’t see it as a problem until one day he walked into the cave and realized that Tim had been down there for 24 hours straight. Tim was still in his uniform hunched over asleep at the BatComputer. His cheek pressed down on the keyboard with an open file still on the screen. Empty coffee mugs and several protein bar wrappers lay littered along the side of keyboard. Bruce sighed as he saw firsthand that Tim’s hard work came at a price, his health. He gently picked Tim up and carried him to his room.

Tim woke up a few hours later with a start. He found himself in his room with no recollection of how he had gotten there. Bruce was sitting in a chair by his bed with a look on his face that Tim couldn’t read. Tim defaulted to disappointment, because why wouldn’t Bruce be disappointed in him. He didn’t finish the job.

“Bruce, I can explain. I was so close to cracking the Burton case. I just needed to do more research on the shell companies that were purchased after his death.” Tim rambled. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I’m sorry I didn’t finish. I can’t believe I fell asleep. I’ll do better, I promise.”

“Tim, stop.” Bruce consoled, calmly grasping Tim’s hands. “I’m not disappointed in you, son.”

Tim blinked. Not really understanding what he was hearing. He had failed to finish a task. A task Bruce had entrusted in him to complete. 

“I’m disappointed in myself for not seeing the danger you are putting yourself through. When was the last time you got a good night’s sleep?”

“I-I’m fine. I don’t need much sleep. Besides, you’ve gotten by on less.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow. “True, but I’ve had years of practice. You are still growing. You need more than just 3 hours sleep and more to eat than just protein bars and coffee. Starting tomorrow for the next two weeks you will not be spending any time in the cave or in the field. You will be recovering by catching up on sleep, and regaining the muscle you have lost with a proper diet and exercise.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “You’re grounding me? Bruce please, I’ll do better. I promise.”

“I’m not grounding you Tim, and it’s not about doing better. You are already the best at what you do, but I do need to set boundaries with this job. I have to set limits and by that help teach you to _know_ your limits.”

Tim didn’t understand. If he did his best, why did this feel like a punishment? He wasn’t being allowed to research in the Cave or go out on patrol. What did he do wrong?

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Tim.” Bruce said, as if reading Tim’s thoughts. “This is for your own good. Trust me. You can’t always do everything on our own. Let _us_ take care of _you_. I will take care of all your outstanding cases. Now go back to sleep.”

Bruce bent down and gave Tim a hug. “You’re not in trouble, son. Okay? Please rest.”

That same day Alfred made a ‘Tim Care Chart’. Each family member had a specific job or “Tim task” assigned to them.

Jason was in charge of sleep and hygiene. Tim knew the only reason why Jason volunteered for both tasks was that it gave Jason permission to throw him in the shower whenever he wanted, or ‘when the stench from his suit became visible.’

“Rise and shine, Babybird it’s time to wake up.”

“Why are you here?” Tim whined, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Good morning to you too, Grumpy. Go get a shower and dressed, Alfred has breakfast waiting for you.”

“What time is it?”

“Ten o’clock, you slept for like 12 hours.”

“Shit! I forgot about the paperwork I promised Bruce I’d have finished by today.” Tim exclaimed, bolting out of bed pulling clothes out of drawers and haphazardly putting them on.

“Um, not today, Timbers. Remember, Bruce is doing it all.” Jason countered, directing Tim to the bathroom. “Shower, eat, then maybe one of us will allow you near a computer.”

“But…”

“I will pick you up and throw your skinny ass in the shower if I have to. You know I will.”

Tim grumbled at Jason as he headed to the bathroom to get ready. Once he was dressed he walked to the kitchen for breakfast.

Naturally, Alfred was in charge of food and used his job as butler to his advantage. Tim had almost forgotten what Alfred breakfasts had tasted like. It really was the most important meal of the day. There was only one problem with his breakfast. There was a small coffee cup, roughly about eight ounces, next to his eggs, bacon and toast. On the other side of this plate was small glass of orange juice and a tall glass of water.

“Um, Alfred, where is my usual mug for my coffee?” Tim asked, eyeing the tiny cup with distain.

“Master Bruce has suggested limiting your caffeine intake to one 8 ounce cup a day.”

Tim’s eyes widened. “What? Why? I don’t even drink that much coffee. Besides, it’s good for you. Studies have shown that when consumed in reasonable amounts coffee actually improves heart function.”

“Yes, Master Tim, but the way in which you consume it we would need to have your kidneys replaced weekly,” Alfred reasoned. “In the meantime, you will need to drink that entire glass of water before you are finished with breakfast.”

Tim groaned. This was so unfair. First Bruce had taken away Red Robin, and now they were taking away his coffee and making him drink water.

“Once you have finished breakfast, please go to the Media room. Dick is waiting for you.”

Dick was tasked with making sure Tim had downtime. This meant banning him from talking about cases, looking at his laptop or going down to the Batcave. This played into helping Tim decompress and switch his mind off from cases and detective work to just relaxing and having fun.

“What do you want to do Timmy, play Cheese Vikings or rewatch Star Wars? Ooh we can watch it in the Machete order this time.”

Tim thought about his choices. “Cheese Vikings. I want to see if I can beat Damian’s high score.”

They played for about an hour before Tim needed to get something off his chest.

“Dick, do you think Bruce is mad at me?”

“What? No, why would you say that, because he grounded you for two weeks? At least he didn’t fire you.”

“Is he _going_ to fire me?” Tim panicked.

“NO! No, he just feels you need a little break to recoup. We all feel that way, Tim.” Dick said, placing his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “You work really hard on everything, sometimes a little too much. We all just feel you need a break. Hopefully watching some movies and playing some video games will help you decompress.”

Tim nodded. He could see what Dick was trying to do, but it wasn’t helping him take his mind off of open cases and the recent rumor of a breakout at Arkham. There was a beat of silence as they resumed the game, but Tim’s mind kept veering off to current events.

“I heard that Two-Face broke out of Arkham two nights ago. Is it true?”

“Drop it. The rest of us are already on it. We are not talking about Two-Face. It’s Cheese Vikings time.”

“Fine,” Tim sighed, returning to the game.

They continued to play in silence. Two more levels and Tim thought he would try again.

“Did Bruce ever find out if it was Catwoman that broke into the National Museum last week? It looks like her M.O.”

“Tim,” Dick groaned. “We are not discussing this. It is downtime. At this rate you’re not going to beat Damian’s high score.”

This sucked. He couldn’t even discuss cases with Dick. If he couldn’t talk about cases, what was left to talk about?

They made it through five more levels with Dick taking over the conversation when Cass came into the room to get Tim to workout with her.

Cass was in charge of exercise. She too had choices for Tim. They could walk around the grounds; do yoga in the garden or spar. Tim chose a walk around the grounds. During their walk Cass made him tell her the names of various plants or flowers that crossed their path. Eventually they both got bored and ended up sparing the garden near the gazebo.

Damian refused to be part of the “Tim Care” chart, which was no surprise to anyone, least of all Tim. Tim noticed that he hadn’t seen Damian in the Manor since he was forced to stay in. He figured Damian was confining himself to the Cave likely increasing his case load. Tim was not looking forward to Damian lording that over him.

After dinner Dick summoned Tim, Cass, and Jason back to the Media Room to start their Star Wars Machete order marathon. After the first two movies were over, Jason called it a night.

“Time for bed, Tim.”

“But I’m not tired,” Tim yawned.

Jason stood up and stretched. “I don’t make the rules. I just have to enforce them. 10’o clock is bedtime. Let’s go.”

Tim glared at Jason. “You’re loving this, admit it.”

“Are you kidding?” Jason chuckled. “I get to boss you around. Of course I’m loving this.”

After the first three days Tim started to resent everyone, even Alfred. Though he didn’t show it since it wasn’t the best idea to piss off the person in charge of making your food. Tim didn’t like that his sleep, meals, and even his coffee consumption were now tightly regimented. However, if he was going to be allowed back on patrol, he had to follow the rules. Right now those rules were going to bed at a reasonable hour, eating real food at regular intervals, getting proper exercise and allowing downtime to decompress. This was going to be a long two weeks.

If he were honest with himself, he wasn’t used to the attention they were giving him. He wasn’t used to people caring this much about what he ate, when he slept, or if he was feeling alright. Even as a kid, when Janet and Jack would leave on business trips and leave him home alone, they had left everything up to him. They didn’t care when he went to bed or what he ate for dinner; just as long as he studied hard and got perfect grades.

The more he thought about his time in that big lonely house he realized he was constantly tired and underweight.

He didn’t want to admit it, but on the fourth day he was actually starting to feel better. By the seventh day, his body clock was regulated to a specific bedtime and awake time, so Jason no longer had to be the “Bedtime Police”, but that still didn’t stop him from bossing Tim around. Since he was all caught up on sleep his alertness was sharper when sparring with Cass and his ability to not think about cases and allow his body to decompress came easier thanks to Dick.

Overall Bruce’s idea to “ground” him was a good decision.

After the two weeks was up, Bruce put new protocols in place for Tim. He could go back out on patrol, as long as he abided by certain rules. He was still required to get at least 8 hours of sleep at night. He had to eat at least two meals at the Manor. Protein bars were only allowed as a snack. Coffee was limited to two cups a day. His time in the cave was limited to 4 hours. Finally, he was expected to take two nights off a week.

Tim abided by all the rules Bruce laid out for him. He did find a loophole with the coffee rule. Bruce said he could have two cups. He never specified what size cup Tim could use for his coffee.

* * *

Meanwhile…

Damian was well aware of the draining work ethic Drake put himself through to finish a case. His dedication toward the job had been admirable to an extent. But once he had witnessed Drake constantly compromising his health to achieve an end goal, Damian had had enough. While the others were busy hovering over Drake, Damian took over Tim’s patrol routes for the two week he had been required to stay in. He didn’t need a chart to tell him where a job needed to be filled. He didn’t tell anyone except Father, but only for check-in purposes. All was well with his plan until Nightwing found him catching his breath on the roof of the old Gotham Bank building.

“Don’t you dare tell Drake, Nightwing,” Damian glared through his domino mask.

Nightwing held up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m assuming B knows.”

Damian nodded.

“You look exhausted. Why didn’t you include the family in all of this? We would have picked up the slack with you.”

He was exhausted, but he wasn’t going to admit it to Grayson. Truthfully, this was the only way Damian knew how to help Drake without it looking like he was helping him.

Damian shrugged. “There was no time for discussion. I saw a need and filled it. Besides…” Damian paused and looked out over the city away from Nightwing’s gaze. “Drake would have done the same for me. Just don’t tell him.”

“Your secret is safe with me. C’mon, let’s go home.”


End file.
